


Promethea

by TransformersG1fan271



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, I really like the thought of them all together, I want them all to be just happy on Promethea, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Trigger Warning - Hints of rape, but nothing explict, maximum fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26153575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransformersG1fan271/pseuds/TransformersG1fan271
Summary: Promethea was home for all sorts of people looking to rise alongside Atlas.
Relationships: Rhys/Vaughn (Borderlands), Rhys/Vaughn/Timothy Lawrence/Zane, Timothy Lawrence/Rhys, Timothy Lawrence/Vaughn, Zane Flynt/Rhys, Zane Flynt/Timothy Lawrence, Zane Flynt/Vaughn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Promethea

Promethea was a faint glow of purples at night, usually a breathless sight to behold for newcomers.

You got used to the glow after some time, and for some, it was a source of comfort.

Timothy Lawrence could never get used to the sight, spending most of his nights by the window right before he would go to bed. The glow hid the stars high above, stars that only reminded him of the casino, of being trapped in a hellscape for so long he had nearly called it quits before his life was changed. The thought of being in space, where he couldn’t run anywhere except to the vacuum of death only racked up his anxiety to impressive heights at the mere thought. Luckily, during the daytime, he was distracted and free of thinking about such things. He had his new job, his friends, his lovers, and helping those who couldn’t help themselves.

At night, however, he would wake in the casino most nights. Pretty Boy would sometimes be there, tying Timothy down and taking whatever he could, forcing Timothy to say he was Jack between the pain whimpers and unsolicited moans of forced pleasure. Other times, he was in his cage, watching as the Vault Hunters fought and lost at the hands of Pretty Boy, listening as their screams were cut off one by one. Sometimes, he’s lying on the floor in the place he had made home, hearing Jack’s laughter and mockery as he held a gun to his head.

He tried his best to avoid sleep when he first arrived at Promethea, his mask doing only one good thing and hiding his exhaustion. Rhys, still so foreign yet known to the doppelganger, had seen through him and offered sedatives. It worked for a while, long enough to grow to trust, to accept, and to love, to grow relaxed enough to start forgetting to take his sedative. The nightmares waited, striking when Timothy had dozed off on one of the various couches scattered throughout Rhys’ penthouse. Zane, relaxed on a chair across from him, drew his ever-present pistol when Timothy had screamed, a primal and terrifying noise that usually were uttered by those being tortured. After scanning the room and seeing nothing, Zane’s gun is holstered and tossed aside, more concerned about scooping Timothy up into his arms. The lad freezes and starts lashing out at Zane, glazed eyes wide and unseeing as he is restrained.

_ “Stop it! Stop hurting me!”  _ Timothy shrieks, startling a returning Rhys and Vaughn who were just stepping through the front door. Zane eases up on his hold, Vaughn seemingly materializing to hold Timothy’s head from smacking back against the arm of the couch any further. By now, Timothy is sobbing, the name Pretty Boy spilling from his lips in a way that makes Zane narrow his eye for a moment.

_ “Sweet boyo, sweet boyo he’s not ‘ere.”  _ Zane gently cooed, his voice soft as Timothy continues to cry out. He is now only moving his flesh hand, firmly gripped around Rhys’s offered hand from behind the couch, knuckles white as snow from the strength he was using.  _ “Zane is ‘ere, I’m not gonna let Pretty Boy hurt ye. Open yer eyes fer me sweet one, open them an’ look at me.”  _ Timothy almost looks unwilling to comply, and the sobs begin to trail off as Vaughn leans down and nuzzles the side of Timothy’s head. The bandit makes a soft purring noise, and finally, bleary eyes seem to focus. At first, all Timothy sees is a small bit of the ceiling, fluffy brown hair obscuring most of his view as he sniffles.

Wait...what?

He feels a set of hands holding his head down, Vaughn pulling back and looking almost relieved to see him awake. His head is soon released, and Timothy feels errant tears on his face, his nose clogged up in a way that only happened when he...cried… Timothy feels the blood drain from his face when Rhys and Zane come into view, and all he can manage is to look down in shame.

This was it. No one wanted a broken and shattered husk of a man, no one wanted someone who feared sleeping, no one wanted someone who screamed at his past that haunted him.

_ “Lad? Are ye there?”  _ Zane hasn’t taken his eyes off of Timothy, the doppelganger feeling that eye locked in on his very being. 

_ “...what did I say?” _ Timothy sounds hoarse, flinching at Vaughn’s touch just for a moment, before curling in against the bandit the second Vaughn was sitting down. He’s tugged up and onto Vaughn’s lap, strong arms hugging Timothy as close as possible. It was one of the easiest ways to get Timothy to relax, the man craving any sort of physical interaction he could get.

_ “Ye were talkin’ about the casino.”  _ Zane doesn’t want to speak the name, and Timothy finds himself grateful when he doesn’t. Despite having been with the three for almost a year, a lot of what he went through in the casino was a mystery to them. Only Moxxi knew, and had deleted the years and years of footage after she spoke to him in a way that made his heart ache. The others had never pried, never asked whatever it was that Timothy kept from them.

_ “...I’m sorry.” _ Timothy can’t help but apologize, and he feels a familiar metal hand rest over his own, giving it a small squeeze.

_ “What for?”  _ Timothy just shrugs, a small noise escaping his lips when Vaughn presses a kiss to his neck. 

_ “For not...for being a fucking disaster.”  _ He laughs bitterly, voice wavering as Vaughn continues to press kisses on his neck and jaw.  _ “I am not worth the three of you…” _

_ “Says who?” _ Zane scowls, watching as Rhys comes from the back of the couch, kneeling in front of the couch where he and Vaughn sat. The doppelganger feels the way Rhys leans against him, somehow hugging Timothy just so that a tear escapes him. Zane just worms a hand in, running his calloused thumb over Timothy’s flesh hand back and forth slowly. Timothy can’t seem to answer, just so overwhelmed by how they just held him, giving him so much love despite who he had been and what he had done. 

He doesn’t hear who suggests it first, but eventually, they all pull apart. Timothy curls against Zane after taking a half-hearted shower, the two on Rhys’ sprawling bed. It took him a minute to even realize the fact, and before the question makes it way past his lips, they are joined by Vaughn. 

_ “You bros comfy?”  _ The bandit hums, setting his glasses on the nightstand as he watches the others cuddling a foot away. Zane flashes a thumbs-up, glancing over when Rhys finally emerges from his own shower.

_ “I would think so! That’s the best mattress in the whole galaxy I think.”  _ Rhys grins, noting the sleepy look Timothy gives him as the CEO slips in beside Vaughn. The lights dim as everyone relaxes and gets comfortable, and Timothy can only feel his anxiety starting to rise at the thought of succumbing to another nightmare. 

_ “Get some rest, we’ll be here.” _ Zane murmurs into his ear, and Timothy wants to protest. His room isn’t far, and there he can scream and have his lovers be blissfully unaware. Yet, as Vaughn nuzzles the side of his neck, and Zane just tightens his hold, his room suddenly doesn’t seem so appealing.

Timothy doesn’t even remember falling asleep, breathing peacefully as for once the casino doesn’t haunt him. 


End file.
